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NaBloPoMo

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Heart Words

No sooner had I walked in the door of my local Starbucks this afternoon than I was greeted with a big smile and hello from the barista. He knew what I was going to order before I was even able to say the words, a grande Americano with no room, and he expressed great shock when I added a brownie to my order. You see, my favourite baristas had become used to my boring, no fun zone orders for the past couple of months as I was avoiding flours and sugars to cut my weight. The barista jokingly asked if he should be concerned to which I said he should only be concerned if a brownie became a regular occurrence!

I have been thinking about words a lot lately, especially this past week or so. I love words. I soak them in greedily the same way sun-parched soil embraces a summer shower. And yet, sharing words with others is equally important to me. Sometimes I feel like I have nothing of value to say. I wonder if my words have any impact. How will they be received?

Earlier this week, I left a ‘Thank you’ card for my baristas, because that’s just the type of person I am and I appreciate the fact that they make the effort to know me as a customer, to remember my name, to know that I am a powerlifter, and to know my order, even though I often change it up on them. I have always been treated well at my local Starbucks, but since I left that card it seems like the ice has been broken even more. The barista who served me today has always been friendly, but he has never engaged me in as much conversation as he did today. My expression of gratitude was simple, but I believe that it cracked open the door and created a small connection.

As much as I have been sharing words with others this week, I have also been receiving words so precious and amazing. It completely blows my mind how some of my friends can see deep into my soul, beyond the outward layers that have been wrapped around me like a shield for so very long, and can absolutely and completely get me! Such intimate knowledge has the power to undo me, to reduce me to tears of profound joy and love. For so many years, I hid myself away, thinking I was safer that way, because I had been hurt before and didn’t believe that I was worth knowing well. That belief has been changing, yet I still sometimes can hardly believe that others truly see me as interesting and worth knowing well.